Blueberries and Coffees
by emmas-prince
Summary: COffee shop CS AU. Both Emma and Killian meet under less than pleasant circumstances.


**Blueberries and Coffees**

 **So, this is a little coffee shop CS AU, guys. If you like it or have any suggestions, you can leave a review. Thanks for reading! Oh, and thank you to my amazing beta, onceuponajollyroger, for reviewing and giving me advice on the story :) Hope you guys like it!**

This would be her last day here. She would definitely quit tomorrow; she hated it. She hated the snobby people, the grumpy clients, those love sick teenagers who _always_ sat at the back of the coffee shop sticking their tongues to each other's throats, but most of all, the bathrooms. God, it seemed like the clients couldn't just pee in the damn toilet! She was quitting for sure. First, though, she had to survive what she had left of the day. In two more hours she would finally be free.

She sighed, unamused with the idea that she even had to work in a place she disliked so much. If it wasn't for her dwindling savings,, she would have never chosen to work here. Being a bail bondsperson was not always a well-paying job, and she thought the coffee shop could help make ends meet. Also, Ruby had talked her into working with her because _"Emma, you should see that fine-ass doctor who comes here sometimes! I'd totally do him"_. And so, here she was. Not for Ruby's crush obviously, but because she _really_ needed the money. But she was done. She definitely preferred to eat Ramen Noodles for the rest of her days that to scrub one more dirty bathroom.

She continued serving orders and slipping every once in a while a chocolate muffin into the table of the French kissers – yep, that's what she mentally called them – when suddenly, during fifteen blissful minutes, the shop was nearly empty. Other than the teenagers, no one was around. No snobby customers, no one complaining. She was practically alone.

She sat in a chair in front of the register, grabbing her purse and taking out a file for her next case. Apparently some guy robbed a jewelry store and was on the run now. Nothing new for her. She checked the details, _"a skull tattoo",_ _"in possession of a knife"_ , etc. She had dealt with worse before.

She was pulled out of her reverie when she heard someone in front of her clearing their throat, as if to catch her attention. She was startled, dropping the file to the floor, but quickly picking it up and schooling her face. She stood up, and watched the client in front of her.

He had a mop of black hair and eyes that reminded her of the sea. She was a little thrown off by his appearance, but managed to quickly mask her features. "Good morning, what can I get you today?" she said, with that false smile she always wore here that fooled her customers every time.

"Uh, I'll be getting a coffee with extra sugar and milk," the stranger said, a little distracted and…was he nervous? But…why? "Oh, and a blueberry muffin, please, love."

"Sure," she said, trying to ignore that he had just called her 'love' and no one – not even _him_ – had called her that. _Never_. "Something else?" she added.

"No, that will be all," he said, taking out the money from his wallet and putting a few dollars in her hand. He paid and went to sit on a table near the far left window.

She quickly prepared his coffee, with extra sugar and milk like he'd asked and took from the basket one blueberry muffin.

She went to his table and put the coffee and muffin on top of it, noticing that he wasn't even looking at her. Or at his food. Or anything. He was too deep in his thoughts, looking out the window and almost roaming through the tons of people walking down the street, almost as if looking for something. Or someone.

She was about to turn around and go back to the register, but something stopped her. Was he okay? Her sudden concern for him took her aback but she pushed her own uneasiness to the back of her mind because…what if this guy wasn't okay? What if she could help him somehow? She would have liked that back in the foster home, and no one did that for her. Not even an _"Are you okay?"_ So if she could do that for someone, she certainly would.

She approached him again and tentatively touched his shoulder before asking, "Hey, are you okay? The glass is going to fall off if you keep staring at it like that"

He turned around, startled, and looked at her as if he had being drifting off into nothingness and she had just pulled him out of the sea.

"Yeah, I was just…," he looked uncomfortable, scratching his ear and avoiding her gaze. "I'm waiting for someone. Milah is her name"

"And you bought this for her?" she said, pointing to the food she had just brought.

"Aye. Those are her favorites," he said, smiling.

"Well, she better come soon. I don't think she'll like a cold coffee," Emma said, nonchalantly. "It's disgusting if you ask me…," she continued. "…which you didn't, so I'm just gonna go and pretend this never happened." Cheeks flushed and mentally berating herself, she started off towards the register again when she heard a soft laugh and felt a hand catch hers.

"Thank you, love. For the small talk and the food," he said, smiling gently and looking to her straight in the eyes.

"Yeah, no problem," she said, as she softly pulled her hand from his, still trying to hide her not-so-subtle blush. "I'll be at the counter if you need anything."

He nodded.

And with that, she left him sitting, looking again at the throng of people in front of him and having an oddly comforting feeling about him. But no so much at his so called 'Milah'.

The coffee shop was thirty minutes away from closing and 'Milah' hadn't showed up. The girl's coffee was untouched and so was the muffin. And the guy…well, he looked heart broken.

So yeah, her gut was right – _surprise, surprise!_ – that 'Milah' had left him standing. The question was…why? He was cute, he dressed well, he had those broad shoulders, the silky black hair, that dazzling smile, that…Stop, Emma, _do not_ go there.

But the thing was that she actually pitied him, if just a little bit. It was awful to be stood up by someone. Then again, it was worse when that someone ran off and left you with a whole bunch of stolen watches with the cops after you. Anyway, she felt bad for the guy and since the shop was about to close, she decided to ignore her better judgment – again – and offer him some sort of…comfort, after his disappointment.

So she walked up to him, schooling her face and pretending like his general attractiveness and good looks weren't eye-catching.

"Hey, um…" she said, a little unsure of whether this was a good idea to begin with. "Are you okay? I mean, you were sort of…"

"Jilted, you mean?" he said, looking both crushed and a little exasperated, taking the cup of coffee with both hands and looking at it as if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

"Well, yeah," she said, still beating around the bushes because she _really_ didn't need to be doing this right now. But something told her that sometimes she needed to offer comfort, to be someone's shoulder to lean on, to give solace every once in a while. And what better way to do that that with a guy that had just been stood up by his 'Milah', right?

"Why don't you sit down and I tell you all about my poor and non-existent love life as of now, love?" he said, resigned and pointing to the chair in front of him. She tried to resist the urge to sit because she really didn't need to know about some stranger's love life and it really wasn't her business but, what was the use of denying it, she actually was curious. Who could possibly ditch someone like him?

She sat in front of him and slowly removed her apron and put it on the table in front of her.

"Very well, then," he started. "So my name is Killian, first of all. Nice to meet you…" he hesitated, not knowing what to call her, so he took the apron and looked for the name embroidered in it. "…Emma. Lovely name by the way." He looked at her with his too blue eyes, her cheeks flushing again, until he dropped his gaze to the cold coffee in front of him again. "Anyhow, I was going to meet with Milah here. And it was actually sort of an important…reunion, let's put it that way." He stopped, not knowing if he should tell this girl what had just happened. She seemed trust-worthy though.

"And what happened? Why was it so important to see her today?" Emma found herself asking.

"Well, if you really want to know, love, I gather I should start from the beginning of this oh-not-so-lovely tale," he said, sarcastically. "It turns out that Milah is married to this rich guy, an owner of a pawn shop and…let's say she was unhappy with him. So we met by chance someday, down by the docks where my boat lies and well, we connected. She started going there frequently, some days she just sat there at the edge of the dock watching the sea, other times we just talked about our lives and I...started to get to know her."

By this point, Emma was totally transfixed in the story. Even though her life had been filled with abandonment and heartbreak and the last thing she needed was to hear another tale like that, she found herself leaning to him across the table, not wanting to miss a single piece of what he was telling her.

"And we started going out. I used to take her on boat rides sometimes, or to eat lunch, whatever the bloody hell we pleased. The excuse was to just spend time together, and since her husband was a really overbearing guy – _is_ an overbearing guy, actually – we had to cherish every second we had together."

By this point, he started furrowing his brows and she just knew the ugly part was coming. It had to be. "I knew it was wrong. I knew that being lovers with a married woman would just cause trouble down the line but… I loved her. Still do, actually."

He wasn't even looking at her anymore. "Anyway, months passed, and she alternated her time between me and her four-year-old son. The only two persons she truly loved. But then, her husband found out," he said.

Emma just couldn't help the little gasp that escaped her throat because…shit was about to go down now. For real this time. "And then what happened?" she asked, unable to hide her curiosity.

"And then her husband gave her an ultimatum. It was either she ran away with me, with no chance to ever see her son again, or to go back to her less-than-happy marriage and forget about me completely," he said, sadly.

"He can't keep her son away from her. That kid deserves his mother!" she said, utterly outraged. That husband really seemed like an asshole. No matter the faults or mistakes that Milah had made, it was way better to grow up having a mother like her than not having one at all. Emma knew about that. All too well.

"I know, it's what I thought too, love. But the thing is, he has people working for him anywhere you look. He has contacts. You can never really hide something from him. He twists and toys with the words as if it were child's play. A case against him in a court was a lost one, for sure. Milah never would have won. And that leads me here, in this café, with you," he said, his story almost finished.

"How exactly does that lead you here?" she asked.

"Well, when Milah's husband told her that, she went with me and told me everything he had said. She was sad, heartbroken, whatever way you want to call it. And so I told her that I would give her time to think things through. I would have never forced her to decide between me or her son, _never_. So I told her that a week from then, if she decided to be with me, I would be waiting. Here. If, otherwise, she decided she wanted to stay with her husband and son, she wouldn't come at all," he finished.

"And she didn't come," Emma responded, almost as an afterthought, she too was deep into her thoughts, though never leaving her eyes from his.

"And she didn't come," he confirmed. "But the thing was that the selfish part of me wanted for her to just choose me. To leave everything behind and live in my boat, or in a shitty apartment by the sea, anywhere! As long as we were together, everything would be okay. We would have fought for the custody of her son through thick and thin. I would have, sincerely."

His eyes were so full of emotion she actually wanted to just reach out and touch her shoulder and comfort him. Fortunately, she restrained herself, because, honestly, that would be weird. She barely knew him, after all.

"And what are you going to do now? Do you have…someone to go back to?" she said, refusing to ask the direct question of _"Do you even have family?"_

"Well, not really, love" he said, looking down, trying not to sound as if he were throwing himself a little pity-party but also not wanting to fool himself into thinking he wasn't hurting. Milah had obviously decided to be with her son and, though he was okay thinking that her son would have a mother figure and he wouldn't be left alone like he was, it still hurt to think that he finally had found someone worth staying up the whole night for, someone to talk to and laugh and cry and vent to and it was all gone now.

"Well, there's nothing you can do now, do you? You'll move on, eventually. At least that is what I did," she said, as strong and unbreakable as she had ever been. She didn't know happy endings after all. They didn't exist. Not for her and not for him. Life hadn't been gentle with them. But what she always did and her general advice to people was _"Get the hell up and move on. And never,_ _ **ever**_ _, look back."_ Though not looking back was especially difficult when that past was exactly why she was what she was today.

"Unfortunately, you're right," he said, looking at her again, with a little smile on his face. She really was the tough lass he didn't know he'd find again. "I suppose I better get going if I want to catch the eight o'clock train, then".

"Uh, yeah sure, and good luck with whatever you do next," she said, almost wishing he didn't have to go just now. Though she would _never_ admit that to herself.

"Sure, Emma, you too," he said, standing up. She stood up too, taking in her hands the cold coffee and the muffin.

"What are you doing with those?" he said, confused.

"I'm throwing them away?" she said.

"I'm taking them home actually. You wouldn't deny a man the chance to bask in his sadness for a night before 'moving on,' right?" He said, quoting her words and making her laugh in spite of herself.

"You're right. Though Rocky Road ice cream would be better. And maybe some romcom movies, too, you know?" she said, joking with a man she had known barely half an hour ago.

"You know what, lass? I actually will. Thanks for the advice. From orphan to orphan." He said, taking her completely by surprise. How could he possibly know that? "I recognize one when I see one" he explained, almost as if he were reading her mind.

"Yeah, sure," she said, dismissing the commentary and pretending like it didn't shook her to her core. That place where she was a lost little girl who didn't matter and didn't think she ever could.

He started to walk towards the door of the coffee shop when suddenly, before he opened the door, he turned around and addressed her once more. "Actually, Emma … would you mind giving me your phone number? I would really like to see you again," he asked confidently.

"Me? Seriously?" she said, too stunned to process that this guy, this perceptive and way too handsome guy wanted to see her again.

"Yeah, why not?"

She made a dismissive tone of voice. Besides, it wasn't as if she was going to date him or anything. She had liked him, and his conversation and his good looks but that was all. She really didn't need to overthink the whole thing.

And so she gave him her number. He went away and she went back to closing the coffee shop now that it was time to go home, the horny teenagers long gone.

And as Killian crossed the street towards the eight o'clock train, and Emma closed the shop, they thought that maybe, _just_ maybe, what they were both looking for was now in front of them both.


End file.
